


Running

by LostGirl



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Awkwardness, Get Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-11
Updated: 2006-12-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 19:48:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6534016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostGirl/pseuds/LostGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Changes, well, change things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Running  
>  **Author:** Lostgirl  
>  **Pairing:** Giles/Xander  
>  **Rating:** PG-13/FRT  
>  **Summary:** Changes, well, change things.  
>  **Spoilers:** Set post Chosen  
>  **Disclaimer:** All things BtVS and AtS belong to Joss Whedon and various corporate entities. I am neither.
> 
> Written for the Giles/Xander Ficathon ([masterlist here](http://community.livejournal.com/gilesxander/49866.html)) for [](http://drsquidlove.livejournal.com/profile)[**drsquidlove**](http://drsquidlove.livejournal.com/) , whose requests are at the end of the fic. I'm not sure it's exactly what you were looking for, but I hope you enjoy it, sweetie! Also, huge thanks to [](http://soft-princess.livejournal.com/profile)[**soft_princess**](http://soft-princess.livejournal.com/) running this ficathon and to [](http://mireille719.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://mireille719.livejournal.com/)**mireille719** for her fantastic beta magic!

He remembered the exact moment he'd finally made up his mind.  He'd been thinking about it for over a month, but no one was rushing him.  It was, everyone said, understandable if he wasn't ready to move on just yet.  Everyone said he should take his time.

Xander was getting pretty fed up with 'everyone'.

Buffy and Dawn both wanted him to come to Italy.  Willow wanted him to come to Brazil.  Andrew wanted him to come back to London.  Xander was fairly sure that 'everyone' was only telling him to do what they thought would eventually get them what they wanted.  What they thought was best for him.

The problem was that he knew what would happen.  It wasn't that he didn't want to be with Buffy and Dawn, or Willow, just that he knew he'd fade into the background again.  He'd be the 'Oh, and how is Xander?' at the end of the conversation.  He'd be the guy who fixed windows after the monsters came and someone else had made things safe again.  More than that, he'd be 'poor Xander,' the one who'd lost an eye.

He wasn’t that anymore.  At least, he didn't think he was, but how could he be sure?

"That's a filthy habit," Giles commented, coming out of the house to sit on the steps beside Xander.  Xander looked down at the cigarette in his hand, one he'd stolen from a pack he'd found in Giles' desk drawer.  It was unlit, dangling from his fingers forgotten, and Xander handed it to Giles.

"You speak from experience," Xander replied, surreptitiously watching as Giles lit it and took a deep drag.

They were quiet for a while, both looking out into the cold night.  Xander didn't know what Giles was thinking and trying to guess quickly lost its appeal, since he doubted he was ever right.  Instead, Xander went back to his own thoughts, circular as they were.  Xander knew his problem was that he just didn't know.  He didn't know whether he had changed, didn't know where to go, didn't know which choice was the right one.  He'd discussed it with everyone until he didn't even want to hear the words 'Well, _I_ think,' ever, ever again, but he still couldn't choose.  Shouldn't he know by now?

"You've been quiet," Giles said, startling Xander from his thoughts.  "It's a little worrisome to see you so thoughtful."

"Right, me and thoughts are things that probably shouldn't be left in a room alone together."

Giles gave a soft snort, the skin around his eyes crinkling up as he smiled.  "Hence the worry."

Xander smiled too, leaning back and propping his elbows on the stairs.  It was dark, but too cloudy to see the stars.  It had only stopped raining a few hours ago, and the smell of it was still in the air, the moisture making it seem colder than it really was.  England always seemed cold.  London had been cold; Bath seemed colder.  Xander wasn't sure if it was just the temperature itself, or the lack of purpose.  At least during their brief stay in London, he'd been useful.  Someone had had to begin the repairs on the old building into which the Council had moved.

"I talked to Willow today," Xander threw out, hoping to catch the one opinion he hadn't already heard over and over again.  Giles, so far, had been silent on the matter of where Xander should go.  Kinda surprising, because Giles had to want to get Xander out of his house, had to want to move on with his own life and his own new position with the Council.  Still, Giles hadn't made any suggestions at all.

"And how are she and Kennedy?  The last I heard, they were considering stringing Rachel and Margaret up by their toes."

"Nah, the girls are settling in now, but Willow's not sure how much she can teach Rachel.  Something about her being more Slayer than witch.  I didn't really get it."  Xander shrugged, glancing quickly over at Giles and then back to the night sky.  Giles was looking at his own hands again.  He did that a lot, though Xander wasn't sure what Giles saw when he did.  He wasn't sure he wanted to know, really.  He'd been thinking about Giles a lot more than he should be, lately.

"Okay," he finally said, straightening and turning to Giles, tired enough of his own thoughts to take the direct approach.  "So what do you think?  Where should I go?  I mean, Italy, Brazil, London.  I could take that assignment in Africa.  I give up.  You're my boss, you make the decision.  Assign me!"  Xander spread his arms, as if inviting Giles to look him over and choose where he'd be the most use.

Giles raised his eyebrows, his eyes skimming over Xander and then flicking back up to meet Xander's eye.  "'Boss' or not, it isn't my decision to make."  There was a sad tone to Giles' voice, and Xander deflated, shaking his head.

"I know.  I just . . . I don't know what to do.  It's a big decision."

"You know you're welcome here," Giles finally said, looking up at the sky in much the same way Xander had been.  It was a good way not to have to look at another guy when you said something like that.  Xander snorted and then wondered why Giles, too, seemed to deflate.  Giles' eyes moved back to his hands, and Xander felt strangely responsible, as if he'd managed to say something wrong even when he hadn't said anything at all.

"I know," he said, rushing forward with the words in the hopes that he'd fix whatever he'd just done wrong.  "I mean, I know you say that.  And I know you mean it, except you've got to be wanting me out by now.  I'd want me gone.  You know, if it were me putting me up.  Or should it be, 'if it were me putting up with me?'"

Giles gave a small smile, and Xander was happy he'd managed to make things even a little better.  He kinda liked that smile, the one where even Giles' eyes showed it.  Shaking his head, Xander sighed at himself.

"It's neither.  I've enjoyed having you here."  Again, Giles looked up at the sky, though he glanced over at Xander after he'd spoken.  Xander gave a weak smile and shook his head.

"Yeah, but my clown-like attributes aside, you probably want to get on with your life now."  Xander suddenly realized he had no idea what Giles did want to do with his life.

Giles' small smile changed, though Xander wasn't sure _how_ it had changed, just that it wasn't funny anymore.  He couldn't seem to look away from Giles' eyes and the emotions in them.  Any emotion in them, other than annoyance, was kind of a new thing anyway.

He wanted to look away now, to move or say something to break the tension that seemed to be growing up around them.  Unfortunately, it was as if his whole body was too tense to actually obey his brain.

Giles was leaning in, and Xander's heart thudded, his mind frantically counting the seconds as they ticked by.  He sat there, stunned and immobile, as Giles' lips brushed his, soft and somehow longing.  Xander barely dared to breathe.  His mind was too full of too many things.-- _Giles is kissing me.  Oh, God, what do I do?  Are a guy's lips supposed to be that soft?  Am I supposed to notice that a guy's lips are that soft?  And, oh, crap,_ Giles _is_ kissing _me!_ \--Then it was over.  Giles pulled back, his face still that strange mix of sadness and sincerity.

Xander blinked, opened his mouth, shut it, and blinked again.  "Ummm.  I'm, uh, I'm gonna turn in early," he finally managed, getting up and inside the house as quickly as his legs would carry him.  He tried not to think about the fact that he'd left Giles sitting out there, left him hanging.  In fact, he tried not to think about any of it at all.

It didn't work.  He sat against the door of his bedroom, listening to Giles moving around the house, and the kiss kept filling his head.  Xander closed his eyes, trying to block it out, but that only made the memory more intense.

That was the moment he'd made his decision.  Xander wasn't sure how he'd settled on Africa, except that there was no one there to ask him why he'd finally come.  He'd gotten up early, called Mr. Marcus, the man in charge of Council operations in Africa, and packed for London without ever actually seeing Giles at all.

In fact, by the time Giles emerged from his own bedroom the next morning, Xander was just finishing the note he'd been hoping to leave instead of actually saying goodbye.

"Xander?"  Giles stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the luggage stacked by the door.

"Umm, I, uh, I figured out where to go.  I thought I'd better do it fast, before I changed my mind again.  You know, like a band-aid."  Xander wadded up the note he'd been writing and shoved it into his pocket, trying hard not to look at Giles.

"I see."  Xander glanced up then, hearing the sad tone in Giles' voice.  It was even worse to see it right there on his face.  "Xander, I, uh, I'm sorry for--"

"For what?" Xander hurried to interrupt, putting on the brightest, cheeriest tone he knew.  "It's been great.  You've been great, letting me stay here with you, but it's time for me to grow up, is all."  His nod was too quick, his tone too damn bright.  Giles merely nodded, looking away and then back again.  When Xander met his eyes, the emotion was gone and Giles looked tired.

He should have been thrilled by that, but then, if Xander knew what he wanted, he wouldn't have chosen Africa.  _In Africa, no one can hear you freak._

And that, Xander had decided over the seven months he'd spent tracking down Slayers on the savannah, was the reason he was there now, driving his rented car up the driveway of Giles' house.  It was also, conveniently, the reason his stomach was in knots and his palms were sweating against the steering wheel.

He parked the car, but sat there for a long while, wondering why the house seemed so much darker than he remembered it being, so much quieter.  He'd talked to Giles a few times, but never for long, and the conversations were always awkward, even it when it was about nothing more than the weather.

Finally forcing himself to move, Xander opened the car door and got out, choosing to leave his bags in the trunk until he knew whether or not he'd need them.  Taking a deep breath, he marched up to the door and raised his fist to knock.

"I was beginning to think you'd turn around and drive away again," said a dry, familiar voice from his right.  Xander jumped, one hand going for the knife he'd become used to having on his belt.  Then he spotted Giles, sitting on the bench beside the stairs, in the shadows where Xander had apparently missed seeing him the whole time.

Xander blinked and then felt himself smile.  Giles raised an eyebrow, and Xander's smile widened, which only seemed to make Giles more confused, because his eyebrow inched a little bit higher.

"I was beginning to think I really had missed you.  Oh, and look, I have!"  Xander grinned, probably inanely, but he was trying to push past the tension he already felt in the air.  It seemed to have followed him everywhere he'd been.  He'd been wondering whether that was him, whether he carried it around with him, like Pig Pen, only not as smelly.

"I've missed you as well."  There was nothing upbeat in that tone, and Giles was staring at his hands again.  Had he just kept on doing that all the while that Xander was gone, or was it something that only happened when Xander was around?

"Well, don't sound so thrilled to see me," Xander answered, plopping down onto the stairs, sitting next to where Giles was, on the bench.  "I might jump to all the wrong conclusions."

Giles flinched, his eyes closing for a heartbeat, and Xander wanted to throttle himself, except that he was pretty sure that wasn't possible.  And suddenly it was just like the last time they'd seen each other.  As if all those intervening months had been seconds instead.  But they hadn't been.  Things had changed, Xander had changed.

"Xander, I'm so sorry--"

"No," Xander interrupted, the words surging from his mouth as if he'd practiced them over and over again on the plane.  Which he had.  "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I'm an idiot, and that I ran, and that I didn't talk to you first.  And I realized that, well, I'm always running.  I ran toward Anya and then, when she actually wanted me, I ran away and then . . . I never--I never got the chance to prove to her that it wasn’t her and that I loved her and that . . ." Xander shook his head, unable to say anymore about that.  "Giles, I . . . I freaked, okay?  A big freak, granted.  But I'm kinda like that, a big freak.  I mean, I know it's not okay, but I never . . . and you were . . ." Xander trailed off, wondering why it was so much harder to say all this just because Giles was actually here this time.

"What, exactly, are you trying to say?"  Giles looked at him, expression somewhere between wary and hopeful.

Xander opened his mouth, and still all those carefully chosen words were MIA, or maybe they were just coming too quickly and they'd all got jammed in his throat and that was what that lump was.  Xander didn't wait for them, couldn't, because he knew if he didn't do it now he might not.  He might chicken out and take another seven months to pull his head out of his ass.  Instead he leaned in, his eye tightly closed, and let his lips brush over Giles'.  _Still soft, and were they this warm last time?_

Xander opened his eye and found Giles was staring at him from so close that he could only really see Giles' eyes.  The look of surprise in them was so profound Xander couldn't help but smile.

"Clearer?" Xander asked.

"I don't know," Giles replied, his lips tilted up into that much-missed smile.  "Perhaps if you told me again."

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://drsquidlove.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://drsquidlove.livejournal.com/) **drsquidlove** wanted Gilesy British sarcasm, someone smoking, and a topic of conversation they've been putting off for a long time, and didn't want under-age Xander sex, or anyone calling Giles 'G-man'.


End file.
